The Jigsaw

Hello again :)
As you can see updates take some time... But I carry on and I will :)

So now, as a New Year present, I serve you some hot stuff ;) Enjoy :]

kylee Thanks for coming here again and again :) Sam and Cas are ready for each other, yet... Oh, well, you'll see ;)
I also can't believe that Simon is dead :D It kinda... jumped out from nowhere and just happened - I went with the flow without planning, somehow ;)

Berlin Oh, so good to have you back :D I'm glad to hear from you...
You know, I somehow regret I shot Simon. I also had some thoughts to develop his story more... And I kinda regret I did it that way :] I can feel that this character had so much potential left for me to use... I'm sorry it happened, but it's just as it goes on in our lives sometimes - unexpected and unexlained happens :)

SunaoTsuji Hello, nice to see you here! I hope that the continuation of the prologue was as interesting for you as the prologue itself ;) Actually I hope you found it much better :D Share your thoughts, I appreciate it :)

ASOTA, Aleks - still here? ;) I hope you follow the story...

stve3 Hello, nice to meet you ;) I'm glad you like the story. Stay with us :D

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Just Be Fair...

What Sam had said was encouraging. Really. Everyone would think that way. Well, everyone but Casey. It disconcerted him. Encouraging Sam was a whole universe more of a challenge than the jerk Sam usually was. Some people handled sex very well, be it a challenge, an adventure, a discovery or a simple pleasure. But some, Casey among them, couldn’t take a challenge and turn it into pleasure. Suddenly the pressure of giving satisfaction to someone who was obviously not that easy to satisfy made the young man tense and not so sure any more....

Adding in the frustration after the desperate try at the beach, well, things were not going smoothly enough.

"Sam, I'll do it," he whispered straight into Sam's ear.

"Yes, that's what we're talking about." Sam smirked, amused, but without malice.

"No, I mean...um, you can have me." As Casey said this, with the greatest effort, his cheeks burned like hell. It was probably one of the most difficult sentences he had ever spit out.

"Holy shit," said Sam slowly, pushing Casey away to see his face. "Am I hearing okay? You're asking me to screw you?"

Casey puffed with something that sounded like forgiving or relief, and said, "Well, if you put it that way...." He trailed off for a moment, then leaned his head down and whispered, "Yes."

"Well, honey, that changes things a bit." Sam raised his brow and reached into the drawer near the bed for a suspicious-looking package. He tore it open with his teeth and peeled the wrapping off a big syringe, full of some fluid.

"What the hell is this?" Casey looked confused.

"This, my brave stud, is a tool for an enema."

"Fuck!"

"Yeah, that's right. In order to fuck—oh, sorry, to get fucked, you have to apply this and wait for the effect. Then do it again, and again with water, and then we'll get back to where we are." Sam smiled with a cruel sweetness. "See? I told you you have a lot to learn," he commented at the obvious expression of mixed feelings on Casey's face. Sam liked it. He was on top again, in every way, and damn! he liked it.

Casey pondered over something and finally asked, "So...did you...? I mean, before."

"No, I didn't." Sam chuckled. "I was pretty sure things would turn out like this at some point."

"You bastard." Casey shook his head. "What if I’d had the guts to continue?"

"Well, then we'd have a mess. It wouldn’t kill us. I've been through this a couple of times. Nothing particularly pleasant, but life is full of unpleasant surprises, isn't it?" Sam tried to look innocent.

"Fuck you, smartass!" Casey took the syringe and marched off to the bathroom. He spent a good few minutes there fighting his confusion, disgust, and some other disturbing feelings before he decided he'd just try to go the whole way with what he intended to do. And so he did.

After not less than half an hour—which seemed awfully long in any case—he appeared in the bedroom with a sour face, really tired, both physically and mentally.

"Shit, that wrung me good," he sighed unhappily.

Sam smirked slightly and said, "Practice, Casey. Practice."

The blond man shrugged his shoulders. "Now I feel like...I don't know. Somehow the sexy mood has left me. It can't be helped."

"Yes, it can. I'm a magician, believe me." Sam's face expressed this conviction very well, not to mention the rest of his body.

"I believe you. Then make your special number fucking good, as nothing less than a miracle will do now."

"You'll get your miracle, Casey." Sam was far more sure of his potential than Casey could ever be, which was rather obvious judging by their life stories.

Casey threw himself onto the bed, spread his arms and legs, and looked Sam in the eyes. "Kiss me," he demanded. "That is all I can handle right now, I'm pretty sure of it."

"I don't kiss strangers on the lips. That's my rule," whispered Sam, his mouth ghosting over Casey's ear.

The blond man snorted. "How fucking romantic. You've seen that on cheap movies? Don't make me laugh, stranger. It's a simple, fair deal: my ass for your lips. What do you say?"

Sam only smiled weakly, battled. He found he hadn’t any force to defend his cold walls against the power of Casey's unconscious seduction, and answered quietly, "It's not a fair deal. Not at all." But how could Casey know? Ass is ass. You can sell it, you can get it kicked, whatever. But lips...that's a different story. That's what Sam thought. And then he kissed.

Hot, soft, wet lips flattened on Casey's, biting into his, hungry, like dogs finally let off the chain. As if Sam wanted to suck the soul from his lover, to devour him completely, to put a seal on him that could never be broken. And Casey would never guess how powerful was the wave that brought Sam over this edge, where he was just falling down and down...or was it flying, maybe?

Holy shit! was the only thought that managed to flash through Casey's mind, more or less coherently. Sam was kissing him and it felt like...that's where his mind decided to abandon the idea of reasoning and go blank. No kiss from any other person could cause this. Maybe because of the technique, maybe because of the person himself...who cared?

They were floating somewhere outside time and place, hanging in the reality of that kiss, their very first one that would be given and taken with no other intention than to make it feel like heaven. Casey felt the trembling of Sam's lips, and that alone was capable of shooting his excitement into space, not to mention the flat, hard chest rubbing against his, powerful thighs tensing and relaxing in turns, clinging to his legs and his crotch, and the abdomen pressed against his. Sam was like a hot seal stamped on his body.

Two rough hands wandered over Casey's skin, kindling flames wherever they touched. Trails of fire slowly covered his whole body, heading inexorably to that one place that is a treasure trove of sensations for every man. And when they got there, Casey sighed deeply, arching his body under Sam and wanting more. Oh, so much more....

Sam's fingers encircled his partner's dick, squeezing it gently, while the other hand reached lower to follow the line of his prostate down to the cleavage between his buttocks. No one had ever caressed Casey in that way. He felt all feverish and so open, so naked that it was scary. He tensed up for a moment, which Sam caught immediately.

"Relax, Cas," he whispered in his low, sexy, hoarse tone.

"I am...I just...I don't...oh fuck!" Casey tried his best, but he just couldn't find a way to express it; he didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"Hey, I can see that."

"You do?" Casey panted into Sam's face, his lips dry and pulsating strangely.

"Open up. There's no other way." Sam run his thumb along Casey's lower lip, slowly and mercilessly.

"How? How the fuck?"

"Receive. Accept. Take it. Give freedom to your wanting." Those words were like burning arrows flashing through Casey's mind, unleashing an almost desperate passion. "You've already made your decision. Let it be, then. Don't dwell on it any more. Don't go back to the moment of choice, trying to make it over and over again. Just let it go."

"Be fair, Sam. For once in your life, be fair with me."

"I will."

"Fuck, I still can't believe you, you know? I'm so fucking...." A gentle, yet demanding kiss closed Casey's mouth.

"I know you can't." Black, hypnotizing eyes stared at him with an intensity he had never experienced before. "Don't. Just...fuck it. Stop caring. You get it? Give yourself the right to be helpless, to feel desire and lust. Display yourself to me and be ready to lose. I want it all. And I'll take it all."

Those were the most sexy words Casey had ever heard. They resonated in his whole body. And he understood them. They were all he wanted; something that brought him over his limits. He gave up completely. Now he could serve himself naked and open on the table like a dish, saying taste me, take me....

He threw away the straitjacket of prudery and modesty, he overcame his habit of dominance. Their place was taken by wanting and carnal instincts. He closed Sam in an embrace of his arms, legs, hungry lips, and hungry soul. He stuck his body to the one pushing in between his thighs. Neither of them had suspected that they'd wanted it so crazily bad, and now their frustration, their pain, their deepest subconscious needs just blew up in that one moment of outlet. For Casey it was like a raging storm catching him in its claws, throwing him around, choking him and playing with him in a wild dance, kindling hot flames of passion and unfulfilled longing. Sweat squelched quietly between their connected chests, lips smacked quietly, crushed in possessive, random kisses. Casey wanted to close it all inside him. Or maybe he himself wanted to be closed inside something, even if he had no idea what that "something" could be. It was impossible, but he still wanted to be...just closer. He ground into the tight embrace, pushing up to meet Sam’s hot body, to sink into it, to become one with it. And he couldn't. A desperate wail formed deep in his gut and escaped his lips.

Sam only grunted, "Holy fuck!" and pushed harder, pressing their two powerful erections together. He wanted to go slow, as expected from the master of ceremonies, but he found it impossible. Still licking Casey's lips, less and less coherently, his own mind going blank now, he tried to dive into Casey's hole with his finger.

Too dry and too tight. Casey bucked hard and arched his body in pain.

"Shit!" In the last flashes of rational thought, Sam reached for the liquid standing on the bedside table.

Casey stopped his hand and panted, "I don't care, Sam. Go ahead, do it hard. Whatever."

"I like it hard," croaked Sam, "but that’s not a method for the first time. Believe me."

"You know I can handle it."

"I don't want you to handle it, idiot. I want you to enjoy it!"

"Then stop yapping, ‘cause I'll go crazy. Just do it!"

"Fuck!" It was the only answer Sam's brain could generate. He just managed to press the feeder and squeeze the portion of gel onto his fingers. Then he stopped controlling things. He pushed his middle finger into Casey again, ignoring the groan of pain. He forced his way there, as if he wanted to pierce Casey through, up to his throat, with a movement of his whole body. After a few brutal, hard shoves he added a second finger, then a third. Casey was twisting under him in the reflex of escape, trying to avoid those thrusting fingers, but Sam kept his lover in a cage of his limbs, fighting a conqueror's battle. He felt fire in his gut. He felt fire in his mind. It was bad. So fucking bad. But it was too late. He was like a blood-craving hunting dog let off the lead, running after his prey. Only muscles, senses, hunger, and fire. Fire everywhere. His throat was completely dry from panting, his heart was going crazy. He started to whimper quietly—not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't help it. And not because of pleasure, but only at the thought of it coming and still being too far away, although it was so close.

For Casey it was like hell mixed with heaven. He wanted Sam to get inside him, but his body was running from the pain and his mind was still full of fear. Those forces were clashing, making a huge battlefield of Casey. The feeling was so intense that Casey started to cry, tears flowing down his cheekbones to his ears and into his damp hair. He sobbed, swept by the power of a new sexual experience.

"Stop!" he shouted. "Stop, please. Stop...."

The message slowly made its way to Sam's brain and the man stopped reluctantly, his fingers still in Casey's anus. He rested his forehead against the other man's nose and waited.

"Stop for a second, slow down—I can't—" Casey breathed through his tears, panting heavily.

"Sorry." The quiet murmur reached his ears.

"That's okay, just...lemme do that, 'kay?" Casey tried to calm his breath, his heart, his body and mind. He needed a moment to adjust.

"'Kay. Tell me when you're ready."

"'Kay." With both hands Casey pulled Sam's hanging head up and kissed the black eyes, the nose, and the parted lips, one by one. "

"You crying?" That was something completely unexpected for Sam. He drew his brows together, not really sure what he was supposed to do.

"No," said Casey, honestly not aware of his tears. When he felt fingers slipping out of him, he grabbed Sam's hand to stop its withdrawal. "Stay there," he whispered. "I'm not crying. It just...by itself. It was a hard pull. I lost it."

"Me too, I guess." Sam smiled, disbelief written all over his face.

That view was worth whatever Casey had been through before. "Yeah, I can tell." He smiled too.

He started making gentle, circular movements with his hips, slowly impaling himself on Sam's fingers that were stretching his rear. His muscles loosened gradually and accepted the invader. Pain went away. "More fingers," he demanded, his eyes closed, his thoughts focused on that entrance point to his inside. Sam added a fourth finger, carefully, attentively, feeling the flesh give way under his slight, continuous pressure. He knew exactly how to do this, now that he was back to his senses. Casey took the finger with a trembling sigh. "Okay, stay there for a moment," he requested, trying to relax.

"You don't have to tell me that. I know what to do."

"I'm sure you do. And you knew it just as well three minutes ago." He smirked and watched, amused, as Sam bit his lower lip, having nothing to bite back with. "Now, move your hand."

Obediently, Sam started to massage Casey inside, slowly reaching deeper and deeper. Casey's breath sped up again; he tightened up and relaxed in turns on Sam's fingers. Sam felt the fire, stifled for a couple of minutes but now ready to go at full throttle again. Blood pulsed powerfully in his head as he felt Casey's muscles closing and embracing him down there. "Fuck, Cas," he whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Hey, pull out," Casey said suddenly, bending his body in a more and more  lascivious dance.

"What?" Sam didn't understand his intention and was ready to explode with anger.

"Pull out and push in." Casey panted and latched on to Sam's tempting lips.

Sam grunted into his partner's mouth and let him devour his lips in an abrupt, messy kiss. He pulled his fingers out, dragging them along the prostrate, and then he slipped them back in, making Casey moan into the kiss—in bliss, this time. He swallowed that moan together with short breaths and closed the kiss, biting into Casey's lips, sucking his tongue, trying to plunge as deep as he could. And Casey let him in. On every front.

Their moves became faster, impatient. Their bodies rubbed against each other, sensitive, trembling, slippery from sweat, begging for caresses. Passion possessed them again, woke fire in their veins, turned off their minds, and crushed their controls. Foreplay was out of the question, as well as blow jobs, condoms, and everything that wasn't a cock shoved up the ass.

Sam's fingers left the pliant, warm paradise they were in and crawled up, over Casey's belly, chest, and neck, to climb Casey’s mouth and push in there. He pulled up his knees, spread them, and slipped under Casey's thighs, joining their groins. His hard, swollen cock quivered when it poked the soft entrance.

"I want it, Cas. Let me, please." Sam's head dived into the crook of Casey's neck. If he had wandered for a moment, he would come to a very strange conclusion that it was the first time in his whole life, probably, that he’d said "please" in bed. But he didn't give it even the slightest bit of thought.

Casey felt the humidity of Sam's heavy, whistling breath on his neck, he felt the tongue pushing into his ear, the soft head of the dick teasing his ass, and he moaned lengthily. It took him a while before he was able to stammer into Sam's ear: "'Kay. Ready. Go."

He spread his thighs even wider, almost touching the sheets with his knees, hooked his feet on Sam's hips, and took in the long, steady stroke. He sighed loudly, not sure if it was pleasant or just exciting and very new. But he wanted it anyway. His hands clenched on Sam's butt and felt them go hard as Sam pushed in all the way to the end, with his whole body, shifting Casey up on the bed.

God, there was so much power, so much strength...no woman could give Casey that. To no woman could he surrender like that.

There was nothing but wild sex, in its most primitive, pure shape—the ultimate, eternal power of nature.

Sam's back arched again and again to the rhythm of deep thrusts; his chest stayed glued to Casey's belly, flexing under him, and his hips fell into crazy harmony with the waving dance of Casey's. They lost themselves in the mess of kisses, touches, violent grips, forceful thrusts, pants, moans, grunts, saliva, sweat, semen, hair clinging to faces, crumpled sheets, the creaks and hammering of the bed....

Excitement reached its apex and became almost unbearable.

"It's...a...fucking...bomb...there...." Casey barely managed to find his voice that didn't really sounded human-like. "Fire..."

Sam only grunted in answer, not able to formulate even a simple thought. He felt the wave, a fucking tsunami, building up inside him. All his oversensitive nerves launched a saturation bombing at his abdomen, and the crumbling dam burst. His spasmodic, scattered breath ripened and Sam gave out a single moan that sounded as if his soul was wrenching itself free from his body with the greatest effort. It wasn't his soul, though, but the essence of his virility spreading with a sticky warmth inside Casey's body. A series of strong spasms rocked Sam's body until it flattened, completely exhausted, on the man squeezed down into the mattress.

As soon as the energy found a vent, a herd of furious, scattered thoughts hit Sam's brain. Fuck, shit.... That was his very first conclusion. What had happened was so humiliating, so unlike him, so against the rules, so...childish. How was it even possible? He was scared shitless and he refused to look Casey in the face. He even ignored Casey's hard-on and his desperate tries to find some longed-for relief. He just rolled onto the bed, turning his back on Casey, and nervously reached for a cigarette. He needed to calm down. He needed to be alone. He needed to go back to what had been before.

The white fluid was slowly dripping from his soft, tired cock onto the sheet, his head was slowly cooling off, and only his heart didn't want to calm down. Fuck, fuck fuck....

Casey caught the feeling at once, just in time to not stir up a hornets' nest. His hand, already reaching out to touch Sam's shoulder, froze; his pleading voice stuck in his throat. A silent sob of disappointment and humiliation built up in his chest, and the pain that struck him was even greater than the physical pain he had felt at the beginning, when Sam had fingered him violently.

The sticky wetness between his butt cheeks was suddenly disgusting to him. He looked at his stiff penis and felt like a pathetic idiot. Fuck, he thought. He should have been smarter. He shouldn't have listened. Why had he let himself be fooled again? Why fucking again?

He stifled the sobbing, dragged himself heavily from the bed, and hobbled to the bathroom. He shut the door, leaned his back against it, and slid down onto the floor. Then he cried silently, waiting for his erection and the pain in his back to let him go a little. When his cock finally grew limp, he put himself into the bathtub and turned on the hot water. He even thought he might drown himself now. He didn't care.

Five minutes later Sam opened the bathroom door with a bang.

"Do you mind?" he asked dryly, starting toward the shower and not looking at the other man.

Casey said nothing, as he had nothing to say.

Sam got under the cascade of hot water and, showing his back to Casey, he pressed both hands against the cold wall, his head hanging down between his shoulders.

"I asked you only one fucking thing, you asshole," said Casey finally. "One. Fucking. Thing," he repeated, his words distinct and emotionless. I just wanted you to be fair. This one fucking time.

Silence.

"And you promised. And I, stupid me, let myself be convinced. I believed you, and now I cannot believe I did."

"I told you not to," the quiet voice answered.

"Oh, right. And I should have listened to that part of your speech. Poor idiot." Casey smiled ironically. "You fucked me good, in every meaning of the word," he snorted. "I...I don't think I have any strength left. I just feel so fucking empty. And you know what? I think I'm starting to walk in your shoes."

Sam clenched his fists, feeling a strong cramp in his gut. Something in him wanted to say sorry. Something wanted to cry. But he just pursed his lips and bricked his pain up inside once again, like he always had; it was the only method he knew: to trample, to relegate everything to the back of his mind, to deny and forget.

Only the salty water on his lips told him that this time it hadn't worked that well.

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Soooo.... did you like it? ;)
As always - your opinions are my gems! I'm impatiently waiting for them :)